


Festival of Lights and Oil

by BastardSonOfDay (Diana_Raven)



Series: Hannukah Gifts [3]
Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Angst, Cassian has PTSD, Cassian is Jewish, Channuka, F/M, Hannukah, Jewish!Cassian, Jewish!Nesta, Nesta Archeron is Jewish, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, etc etc etc and all those other spellings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-04
Updated: 2018-12-04
Packaged: 2019-09-07 14:03:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16855351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Diana_Raven/pseuds/BastardSonOfDay
Summary: Cassian's PTSD is triggered while he cooks for Hannukah, but Nesta is there to help him.





	Festival of Lights and Oil

**Author's Note:**

  * For [librarian_of_velaris](https://archiveofourown.org/users/librarian_of_velaris/gifts).



> Not going to lie this is probably out of character but like.... I've never written these two together before so give me a little slack okay. I don't actually know if this is a trope in this OTP but I kinda assumed there would be a lot of fics around where Cassian comforted Nesta and not the other way around so I wanted to see what would happen.   
> Warnings: PTSD trigger, angst, yknow
> 
> Prompt: like a nessian hannukah ficlet
> 
> Happy hannukah Zoe! Hope you like it!

Cassian was cooking dinner, you know, as you do.

Cassian liked cooking. It was relaxing. The formulas which kept you on track, a steady hand to guide you. Being able to tweak and taste your creation until you were finished. The smell.

He loved the certainty of it all. These days, so few things in his life were certain that it was calming.

And, he joked to himself as he diced radishes for salad, it was a good thing too, considering how he planned on spending the rest of his life being bossed around by Nesta.

Cassian popped an extra radish in his mouth and snacked on it as he turned his attention to the latkes.

If he was being honest to himself, Cassian liked sufganiot better. Jelly were his favorite type of doughnut as it was and also, if Cassian was going to eat something deep fried he decided he would go all the way. Not that latkes were bad tasting per se, but given a doughnut and a potato pancake? If Cassian was going to break from his healthy lifestyle the doughnut would be it.

But he still made latkes because he was cooking for his whole family and they liked them, also what was Hannukah without latkes?

All Cassian did was gently place a latke in the pan of oil to begin frying, but sometimes all it took was a little something.

The latke, as it fell, had splashed him with boiling oil. Which wasn't the most painful thing Cassian had ever experienced. In fact, far from it. But it didn't need to be.

Suddenly, Cassian was thrown back in time—eyes squeezed shut and spatula dropped onto the ground.

The sizzling of the oil—the burning on his back. The boiling hot pain which only lasted for a second, a couple droplets on his hands—the boiling hot explosion of pain of his wings, shredded, He'd _shredded_ them-

Cassian stumbled backwards, slamming into the granite island behind him, only intensifying the pain. Cassian slid to the ground as the memories held him hostage.

Pain-pain-pain-

It was all he could feel. The smell of his own blood and screams that he couldn't remember if they were his own or someone else's.

This, Cassian realized (not for the first time), was the end. He wasn't going to survive this.

* * *

Nesta was used to coming home in the winter to a fully cooked meal, some time with someone she didn't hate, some great sex, and then a good night's sleep.  
When she opened the door and found the house filling with smoke as latkes burned on stove with Cassian cowering under the granite island counter she was, to be concise, shocked.

And their house was filling with smoke.

Tons and tons of smoke.

Nesta hurried over to Cassian, using her knitted scarf to cover her mouth. First, she put out the fire and dumped the scorched batch of laktes in the sick. Then, she opened all the windows despite the outside chill. Third, she dragged Cassian out from his hiding place and into the fresh air outside. Cassian stumbled as she pulled him along and fell hands first into the snow.

With the shock of the cold and chill against Cassian's skin he was pulled from his waking nightmare back into reality. His bones trembled and his body shivered. His breath came quickly, as if he'd been running miles and he sank himself slightly deeper into the snow, just to prove to himself that this—his home, the snow, _Nesta_ —that _this_ was real. Real and now.

Nesta knelt next to him, her scarf wrapped around his body. It was all she could give him.

They stayed together outside for a few minutes. For long enough.

Cassian let out a sigh of relief, and then nodded. Nesta helped him back inside.

"Sit." She ordered. Cassian fell onto the sofa. The room still smelt of burnt food, but the smoke had mostly dissipated.

Nests went to the kitchen and took two mugs from the cupboards. Hers, she filled with coffee. Cassian's with tea.

She stuck the mug in Cassian's hand and placed one leg over the other as she sat on the coffee-table across from him.

"What happened?" She asked shortly. More concerned than angry.

Cassian blew gently on his tea, bringing it near his mouth to see if it was an okay temperature to drink. Too hot. He placed it on the table beside her.

"I'm fine, Nes."

"What. Happened?"

Cassian toyed with his thumbs. "I-" He didn't know where to start.

"Cassian." She said softly. Nesta was almost never soft, not even to him. But when she was...  
Like putty in her hands.

Cassian tumbled into her embrace, surprising her. Nesta put down her coffee and held him closer. "You're okay now." Cassian breathed her in. He knew her, in and out. Every whisper, every speck.

But she barely knew him sometimes, it seemed like for as much as he talked, he never told her anything.

"I was so scared." He breathed into her chest. He pulled his arms around her tighter. "I thought- I thought-"

He couldn't get the words out. He couldn't tell her that he thought he was going to die. Alone. Without ever finding someone he could rely on, give himself wholly and without sacrifice to—without finding Nesta. He couldn't tell her that at that moment, just for a second, that without wings to carry him and everyone he loved away from the wickedness of Hybern he wanted to-

Nesta hesitated and then gently ran her fingers through his hair. Cassian never seemed to show that he was scared, or that he was haunted by what had ever happened to him. And a _lot_ had happened in over 500+ years of life.

"It's okay to be scared." Nesta said softly. Her voice rasping as the words came from her. Her fingers trembled. He needed her. He needed her so badly right now and for the life of her, she didn't know what to do. What to say.

"I don't ever want to feel like that again." Was all that muffledly came from Cassian as he burrowed his face deeper into her breast. And maybe, she thought feeling something wet, crying.

"It's okay. It's over now. Whatever it was, it wasn't real. You're here now. You've survived. You're safe. We're all safe."

Cassian took a deep snuffling breath. Safe. He repeated the word over and over in his head. Safe. Safe. Safe.

No Hybern to take his girl away. No war to threaten his life. Safe. Safe. Safe.

But-it had felt so real. The feeling of losing his wings, and of watching her go down into that Cauldron, to drown—forever, to go down into that swirling magic.  
Cassian's breath hitched.

Safe. Safe. Safe.

The doorbell ringed and Cassian jumped to his feet. He rubbed at his eyes, to wipe away any tears that may have been there. “I totally forgot! Family dinner-!”

“Cass, I can go tell them to go home. You don’t have to do this if you don’t feel up to it. I’ll blame myself, don’t worry it’s fine-”

“No, Nesta. I mean, thank you but no thank you. I want to do this. I’ll go-I’ll go back into the kitchen and-”

“Are you sure?” Nesta asked. She took his hand in hers. “I can cook, you know.”

“I like to do it. But, I’ll let you do the latkes.” Cassian replied softly.

The doorbell rang again.

Nesta stalked over to the door and flung it open. “We heard you the first time.” She snapped.

Az raised an eyebrow from the other side and nodded his head to Amren. “She couldn’t wait.”

Amren pushed past Nesta. “I hate this fucking body. Peeing sucks.” Amren disappeared down the hall.

“What’s that smell?” Az asked, shadows flickering around him. Az’s eyes widened slightly and he frowned.   
“I wanted to help out Cassian with the cooking, but I accidentally put a towel on the stove. It burnt.” Nesta glared at Azriel as if daring him to challenge her story.  
Az nodded. But Nesta was sure he didn’t believe her. The way he looked at Cassian told her he knew exactly what had happened, damn his shadows. But at least he was kind and tactful enough not to mention it.

Nesta walked over to the kitchen to fry the rest of the latkes while Cassian inducted Az into helping set the table. Az leaned over gently and took Cass’s hand in his.

Cass gave him a small comforted smile. “Thanks.”

“You’ve survived. You’ll survive again.”

Cass squeezed Az’s hand. “Happy Hannukah, brother.”

“Happy Hannukah.”


End file.
